The Trouble with Buying Flowers
by magicsintheair
Summary: 'Today's the day after Valentine's Day. He really should have gotten these flowers yesterday, but his new anti depressant pills sometimes made him woozy, and it was hard for him to leave the bed. He should probably talk to Bruce about that. Anyway, Bucky was sure Steve would understand.' Stucky, modern AU. Angst and fluff. Oneshot.


Bucky hesitatingly opened the flower shop doors and walked inside, immediately hit by a wave of fresh scents, sharply contrasting the smoke filled air of downtown New York. The shop was void of customers; the only person in the store other than him was a bored employee behind the counter, who immediately snapped her gaze from the rose display to him when he entered.

He could feel her eyes examining the empty sleeve of where his left arm used to be, and he kept his eyes on the daffodils, feeling the agitation build up in him and flexed his fingers nervously. He knew he should have worn his prosthetic today, but the phantom pains were too much for him, and the prosthetic only seemed to make the aches worse.

Fuck, he could still feel her staring at him. He hated it when people stared at him, like they were judging him because his arm got blown off. Can't they just leave him alone?! He knew he shouldn't have gone out today.

But this wasn't about him, it was about Steve.

Today's the day after Valentine's Day. He really should have gotten these flowers yesterday, but his new anti depressant pills sometimes made him woozy, and it was hard for him to leave the bed. He should probably talk to Bruce about that. Anyway, Bucky was sure Steve would understand.

Bucky shook himself out of his daze and turned towards the Orchids. What's Steve's favorite flower again? He screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to remember. Not roses... maybe... daffodils? No, that's Ma's favorite flower...

Dammit! This would never happen before he went on his tour in Afghanistan. Before the battles, the POW camp, losing his arm... Before being strapped down to a table, being slowly unmade until the only thoughts in his mind was name, rank, serial number. He felt so different now, like he's slowly coming back to himself, even though it's been a little over a year since he returned home to New York.

Bucky opened his eyes again and sighed, running his hand through his hair. Get ahold of yourself, Barnes, he instructed himself sternly. This is for Steve. He started to move again through the shop, examining the colorful flower displays, trying to find one that screamed Steve to him.

God, why do flower shops have to be so bright, almost blinding with the neon colors beginning to mix together, the lights above him blaring down with unforgiving harshness that's starting to make him feel uncomfortable... was this a hallucination?

NO! He's not going down that road right now. Bucky forced his shaking hand to go steady and took a deep breath in. For Steve, remember? He couldn't be selfish right now, Steve was waiting for him and he didn't want his paranoid, spiraling thoughts to get in the way of buying Steve flowers, dammit!

Okay, which flowers would Steve like the most? He smirked at the red, white, and blue carnations tied together with an American flag ribbon. He and his friends called Steve 'Captain America' all the time because he was a US History professor.

Actually, he thinks that nickname originated when Bucky and his friends crashed Steve's class after they got spectacularly drunk. He listened with drunken intensity while Steve finished up a lecture on World War II. After Steve finished, Bucky stood up and shouted, "LET'S HEAR IT FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA!" Bucky and his friends howled with laughter, and he was able to witness Steve's flushed face and tolerant grin before he passed out on a desk.

Bucky reached out, running his fingers over the soft petals. Steve would probably laugh, but no. He let his hand fall back to his side. Steve wasn't just 'Captain America.' He was soft blond hair, perfect, kissable lips, artist's hands, sarcastic comebacks always ready on his tongue, a man who won't back down from injustice.

Bucky didn't need just a bouquet, he needed a truckload of flowers, of all sizes and colors. That's what Steve deserves.

His eyes were drawn to a bright blue bouquet near the back of the store, daisies nestled among white roses that were dyed blue.

He walked over to the bouquet, smiling at the dyed roses and daisies... Daisies! That was it! Steve's favorite flower was daisies... He smiled when he remembered his clumsy, eight year old hands carefully weaving a flower crown out of daisies for Steve. Steve put it on his head and refused to take it off until all the daisies had withered away, proudly proclaiming daisies as his favorite flower.

Bucky gently picked up the bouquet with his hand, inhaling the clean flower scent. Yes, Bucky grinned, Steve would love these. He carried the flowers over to the register, eager to finish up and give Steve the flowers. He'll be so happy!

He set the flowers on the counter, then slipped his wallet out of his pocket and set it next to the flowers. While the employee, Sarah, Bucky realized as he glanced at her name tag, scanned the flowers, he nudged his wallet open with his fingers and pulled out two twenties, pushing the bills towards Sarah.

"That'll be 32.48!" She chirped, her voice loud and cheerful. Just like this stupid store, Bucky thought grumpily. He pointedly glanced towards the money, and she followed his gaze and took in the money and the open wallet. Her eyes locked onto the space where his arm used to be.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, blushing as she snatched the money off the counter, hastily stuffing it into the register while her eyes shifted back to his right side.

Bucky flushed too, letting out a mumbled, "Yeah, it's okay," before shoving his wallet back into his pocket. He could almost taste the awkwardness in the air. He was fucking sick of it.

"That'll be $7.52 for your change," she said, clearly trying to return to her earlier perkiness, yet her voice wavered as she held out the money. Bucky felt even more embarrassed when he realized that he put his wallet back into his pocket. Instead of taking out his wallet and starting the whole awkward fiasco again, he just took the money and jammed it into his pocket, next to the wallet. He'd deal with it when he got home.

"Uhhh... do you want me to wrap it in plastic for you? I can put a bow on it too, if you want..." Sarah offered, staring at the flowers. What does he look like, a fucking invalid?! He could do that by himself- Oh. Arm. Right. He swallowed his pride and offered her a small nod. If it would get the flowers to Steve faster, he'd backflip through the petunias.

She grinned and got out the plastic, humming a jaunty tune as she wrapped it around the flowers. "Sooo," she drawled, trying to break the silence as she worked, "Flowers right after Valentine's Day? You in romantic troubles, buddy?" Romantic troubles? As if. He loved Steve, and he knew Steve loved him. That was good enough.

"No, Steve and I are okay," Bucky answered, pointing to the light blue ribbon when she held up a selection of ribbons for him to choose. It was the one that matched Steve's eyes the best. Not perfectly, of course. Steve's eyes were a shade of blue that couldn't be defined by any mere ink.

"Well, why would you buy him flowers after Valentine's Day? Forgot about the date and got banished to the couch?" Sarah teased, finishing up tying the ribbon and handing the bouquet to him. He cradled it against his body.

"No," Bucky replied with a sheepish expression, "Nothing like that." It was because he was an idiot and couldn't get the flowers yesterday. He glanced at the clock on the wall and flinched when he saw it was already 6:30. He needed to get these flowers to Steve.

Bucky exited the shop and started walking down the street. The streets of Brooklyn seemed strangely vacant as he navigated through them, but he didn't care. It just meant less stares, and more importantly, he'd get the flowers to Steve faster. Bucky increased his speed when he realized that he'll be with Steve very soon. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally passed through the familiar iron gates. His heart sped up when he saw where Steve was, and made his way over to him. Standing in front of Steve, he held up the flowers.

"Hey, Stevie. It's been two years and a day since you died in a protest on Valentine's Day for the right of same sex marriage. It's been a couple of months since I got back from Afghanistan now, and Sam thinks I'm doing better. Sorry that I got here late, yesterday I couldn't get out of bed," Bucky said to Steve's tombstone, emptiness tearing him apart on the inside. The cemetery was ominously quiet as he sat down in front of the grave. Bucky placed the flowers on the ground and arranged the bouquet to his liking, ignoring the tears running down his face.

"I just miss you so goddamn much, Steve. Did you know I was gonna propose to you once I got home? But then I got captured, and you died, you stupid punk... Well, you might have reached the end of the line, but not me, buddy, no way. I'll be here for you, Stevie... I'll stay with you... I won't leave you, I promise... Just come back, Steve, please come back..."

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated my stories in awhile, my last few weeks of summer had been incredibly busy, but I will definitely work on them. How did you like the story? Also, huge thanks to my beta, Nepetation. She's helped me so much on this. Thanks for reading, and a huge thank you to those who review/subscribe/follow! I may do another chapter to this, but we shall see.


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